The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,17
you like to let others think they’re in control, when really it’s you.” What she said was true. Of course she could defeat him physically, but then what? She could run, but she was wearing nothing but a nightgown and a kimono with flimsy slippers. Where could she go that his influence could not reach? She was in enough trouble as it was, there was no need to run into more. Not yet.
“Interesting.” His pale eyes sparkled for a second before becoming serious. “What if I told you I could help you become the one in control?”
She frowned. “In control of what?”
“Of the wildness that overtakes you.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as though it were nothing more than a cold or a silly notion.
“It only comes on when I’m threatened, or scared,” she heard herself divulge. She shouldn’t have said anything. Should have put her thumb in one of those pretty eyes… Finley pushed that thought back down deep where it belonged.
“Is that why you were in Hyde Park last night? Someone threatened you?”
She glanced away, but nodded.
“Felix August-Raynes?” His voice was soft.
Finley closed her eyes as dread washed over her. Of course he knew. He would have seen the crest on her corset.
“There was nothing in the papers this morning so I assume the blackguard is still very much alive?”
Her chin came up defiantly. “Do I look like a murderer to you?”
Griffin smiled. “Jack the Ripper had a very gentle countenance.”
“But they never caught…” Something in his expression prevented her from completing the protest. “Lord Felix was very much alive the last time I saw him, though I reckon he has a bit of a headache this morning.”
“Rightly earned, no doubt.” Griffin leaned back into the corner of the sofa and brought one booted foot up to rest across his knee. The smooth black leather looked soft and the silver buckles gleamed in the light. “Like the rest of Jack Dandy’s bunch, Lord Felix has an overinflated sense of self.”
“Who?”
He propped his elbow on the back of the sofa and leaned his head against his hand. So open and trusting with her. Even though he knew what she could do, he wasn’t the least bit afraid. It made her wonder what kind of monster lived inside of him.
“The Dandies. They fancy themselves street thugs, but they’re just a bunch of spoiled whelps with metal in their faces. Dandy, on the other hand, is precisely what he claims to be.”
Finley wondered what that was exactly. “What do you want from me?” She was tired of this pointless small talk.
He didn’t look the least bit surprised or offended. “Nothing. Not yet.”
“But you do want something eventually.” Oddly enough, having him live down to her expectations was disappointing, to say the least.
“Eventually, if I’m right and you’re willing, I’d like for you to join us.”
“As what?” For all she knew, Emily was a concubine for the rest of them. They could be getting up to all kinds of perverse things in this house.
Griffin smiled again—it was as though he could read her mind. “Who do you think keeps this country safe so you can sleep at night?”
“I don’t sleep most nights. And to be honest, Your Grace, I don’t feel all that safe.”
He tilted his head. “I can change that.”
And in that instant, Finley believed him. Not only that, but she knew he believed what he said. It made her want to trust him. When was the last time she’d trusted anyone of the male gender?
“First,” he began, abruptly rising to his feet, “we need to get you some new clothes. A seamstress will be here any moment to fit you.”
“But I don’t have any money.”
He looked incredulous at her protest. “You needn’t worry about that. I have enough for both of us, I assure you.” His eyes were twinkling again—laughing at her, but not maliciously.
Slowly, Finley rose from the sofa, tilted her head back and looked him dead in the eye. “I have no desire to be any more in your debt than I already am.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Would it make you more comfortable if I demanded something in return? Would that put you at ease?”
When he put it like that, it made her sound like an awful sort of person for thinking the worst. “It would, yes. At least that would be honest.”
It might have been laughter that came scoffing from his throat, but there was little humor in it. He shook his head, the light